


I don't want pity, I want to help

by Stissimo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempted Murder, I don't want pity, I want to help, Inspired by Real Events, Mentions of drugs, Shitstorms and decolored rainbows, life story, mentions of cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 14:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stissimo/pseuds/Stissimo
Summary: This is my life story, I hope it'll somehow help if you need help.





	I don't want pity, I want to help

I am finally comfortable in my body, it took me years, but I know I would change it if I could. I know I if I could, I would be a male. I don’t know why, I just would. Even if I like being female.

Since you don’t know me, I’ll tell a little about me.  
I am a 17 years old Danish female, although my dad were from Greenland. I’ve never been outside Europe.

My dad died when I was 4, now don’t pity me, everyone does that. I don’t remember him, and I’m glad for that, since I’ve been told he were a major a-hole during his last years.  
He died from a blood clot the size of a tennis ball in his brain, although my mom and granma told him to go to the doctor, he refused.

I’ve got 4 older siblings, 2 brothers and 2 sisters. I actually forget how old they are, I know my favorite sibling is 19, it’s my youngest older sibling. I think my youngest older brother is 20, oldest brother might be 22, and oldest sister is probably 25. I’m not sure.

Anyway, the two oldest do drugs, as did my youngest older brother, but he quit. I can’t remember the last time my oldest sister were clean.

Have you ever seen a 25 year old with rotting meth teeth? With piercings all over her face, scars from cutting, not only on her arms, but also her face, homemade tattoos covering arms, thighs and back?  
I’ll tell you, not a pretty sight. 

My mom, her I love dearly, is 44 years old. She’s always taking care of us, thinks of us before herself. I sometimes wonder how she does it. For me, there’s no words to describe her.

Then there’s me, who’ve got some kind of anxiety of new things and people. I am a short bisexual female, who looks like I’m 13. I’ve never smoked or done drugs. And I can’t drink alcohol, not after I drank half a bottle of vodka with a friend, he drank the other half.

Now, I can’t remember that night, but I know we had sex, and then he didn’t want to be my friend afterwards. Now I realise he were a prick, he wouldn’t say we were friends before, and would surely deny it now.

I were bullied in school, always been the outsider with 3 friends, whom I lost somewhere on the road. One left for the poplar, another for another school, and the last I still sometimes talk to.

I went to boarding school in 9th grade(10th grade for Americans) I got a bunch of good friends, my grades went up, and I learned to be myself, without fear of judgement.

 

Now life isn’t sunshine and rainbows only, before I got comfortable in my own skin, shit have happened.

I almost witnessed a murder on my then stepdad, it were my oldest brother who tried to murder him, right in front of my two small cousins, youngest elder sister and me. My sister and I went to therapy with mom after that. My cousins luckily don’t remember it, though they don’t like my brother anymore.

Before I was 8, I’ve moved about 5 times, to get away from my dad, and my mom’s family, so we wouldn’t be babysitters all the time.  
My parents divorced, before he died, since he treated my mom like crap, so she moved and took my youngest elder sister and me with her. She weren’t allowed to take the others.

I’ve heard of how my siblings lives were with him, my oldest sister dressed like a whore, she were only around 13 years old. They didn’t really eat, since dad didn’t make food. They scavenged trash cans, searched for returnable cans, and sometimes went to a family friend, who owns a pizzeria, to get free pizza.

Maybe that’s why they took drugs, I don’t know. But eventually my dad died, and mom got all of us after a little while. I don’t remember much.

 

The summer before boarding school, I cut my hair short. From waist length to Ellen Degeneres short, I loved it. Never regretting it. That were a big step for me, to feel better.

Now, I had a girlfriend, but when I look back, she treated me like crap. But she were the first friend after I didn’t have any. That was 1 year before boarding school.  
She were very controlling, I didn’t realise that, but I loved her. She brought a crazy-ish side of me out.

When I started boarding school, I didn’t have time for her as much, since I lived there and got friends. But she wanted me home, because “What if I fell in love with another?”. We got into big fights over phone, and 3 months in the school year, I broke up with her at 2 am over phone. I’m not proud I did it like that, but she pushed me.

My friends noticed I became happier, and didn’t worry a lot. It was all sunshine and rainbows. 

 

2nd year at boarding school and last year, it all went to shit. My old friends from the year before, weren’t there, I didn’t have any friends, except 1. Who later decided that popularity were more important than me, then I got 2 friends, but one of them were only because we didn’t have anyone else.

My anxiety kicked in, I couldn’t go out the door of my room to get food, I were scared of the other students and some of the teachers. I ended up quitting school 3 months before summer.

 

What I do now, I’m mostly home, but I’ve got a small job at a cafe, and I’ve gotten few good friends at a place for young persons with some kind of problem in their lives. It’s good.  
I’ve shaved my head, just to try it, and I look good. I feel good. 

I might not do much, other than read, play games, daydream and take care of 1 rabbit and 2 guinea pigs. But I feel good about myself, and that’s a new thing.

As I wrote earlier, I would change myself if I could. Who wouldn’t? But I’m happy just as I am, and that’s important.

I don’t think there were any reason as to why I didn’t like myself when I were a kid.  
I remember in 3rd grade(2nd grade in US) I thought about I didn’t want to have periods, or pay bills. I thought about ending it, although I were never serious about it.

I didn’t like my thick cheeks, now that I’ve grown, I think they’re normal, not thick. Because if they were like child me would like, I would look like a living skeleton.  
I didn’t like my stomach, not because I were fat, I just didn’t like it. Now, I know if it were like child me would like it, I wouldn’t have organs there.

I loathed looking into mirrors, because I didn’t like the way I looked. I like looking into mirrors now, because I feel beautiful.

I feel like me. I don’t feel like I should look any different. I don’t feel wrong.

I’m proud of myself, even though I know I’m not my idea of beauty. I’m still beautiful, I feel beautiful and good.

So even if life’s shit, it’ll sometimes be sunshine and rainbows instead of shitstorms and decolored rainbows. 

It might take awhile between good things, but I think it’s worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it helped, if you need it.
> 
> The reason I wrote it, is because I wanted to share it, not because of pity, I finally felt ready to share it.


End file.
